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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24937600">This Petty Pace</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squirrelslawlz/pseuds/Squirrelslawlz'>Squirrelslawlz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bookmark Crusades, Character Study, F/M, Harry Needs a Hug, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Hermione Granger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:15:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,921</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24937600</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squirrelslawlz/pseuds/Squirrelslawlz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione has always noticed the most minor of things like a trapdoor under a three-headed dog, a slight crease on a library book page, or the way Harry reacts to a kind word. Well, there's nothing for it but to roll up her sleeves and get to work. That trapdoor will be opened, Madam Pince will be proud of her bookmark crusade, and Harry Potter will get the attention he deserves or her name is not Hermione Jean Granger.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It starts with a sigh. Just a simple exhale that she almost mistakes for revulsion. Only, only he tightens his arms around her before releasing her from the hug that she had unwittingly initiated when she flung her arms around him. Just for a second, Harry had tightened his hold. She can feel her mind shutting down, like a computer with a flash of white before being unresponsive. The fact that she is able to lie to her professors about wanting to take on a troll to protect her new friends is a near miracle. The bashful smiles she gets as they scurry away down the corridor feels a lot like acceptance. She thinks she could run circles around the castle with this feeling bubbling up. Like her birthday and Christmas have been rolled into one and she’s floating on a mix of adrenaline and glee.</p><p>Only, that sigh stays with her. A benediction for something though she can’t quite place her finger on what. As she climbs into bed that night, she can’t help but think that something life changing had just happened. At least, she hoped it did. Resolved to write her parents in the morning, she turned over once and was asleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Rereading my old Harry Potter fanfics from the good ol' ff.net days has me nostalgic. I've always thought Hermione didn't make sense with Ron romantically but I love the friendship. Harry, on the other hand, I think she has romantic potential with.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Harry seemed to know it was no longer safe and his thin shoulders came up to his ears, but he refused to turn to look at her.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hermione,” the red-head bemoaned loudly, stretching out her name until she stopped her reading to look at him. “If I have to read one more page my eyes are going to fall out.” A week into their newly established friendship and an understanding had been reached. The first time the boys had asked her to give them the answers to an assignment her flat refusal had been enough to shake the tentative truce they had made after the troll. When she had shyly offered to proofread for them instead, it was like rain after a humid day. The smiles they had gifted her had eased her worry that her friendship was over as soon as it began.</p>
<p>“Ronald, I can’t help it if Professor Sprout wants us to read before class and you put it off until the last minute.” Where before she would have turned her nose up at him, she fought down the urge. Using his full name helped though. It felt Official, capital letter and all. Like her mother when she would call her Hermione Jean. The <em>listen right now</em> was built in.</p>
<p>“Out of curiosity, what is your middle name Ron?” It wouldn’t hurt to know for future occasions.</p>
<p>He gave her a squint-eyed look, eyes quickly scanning her face for some sign of devious intent. He must have seen it. “Oh no you don’t! I’ll just finish this in the dormitory.” Giving an indignant squawk of outrage when he crushed his textbook and papers to his chest before crab scuttling away Hermione turned her attention to her other friend. Harry seemed to know it was no longer safe and his thin shoulders came up to his ears, but he refused to turn to look at her.</p>
<p>“Really, Harry! Can you imagine treating a book like that?” Harry wisely said nothing though he did give a half-hearted shrug as if to say ‘what can you do?’. “Well, what about you?”</p>
<p>“Erm. What about me?” Harry still hadn’t looked at her.</p>
<p>“Honestly, Harry. What do you think? What’s your middle name?”  Wiping off the nib of her quill, she went about packing up her things for class.</p>
<p>“Oh, well, it’s James.” He seemed hesitant, like he had stumbled upon a pop quiz and hadn’t the fuzziest if he had passed. She had noticed that whenever someone sounded even the least bit snappish with him he seemed to fold into himself. Except with Professor Snape. For him, Harry had no end of witty retorts that always got him into even deeper trouble.</p>
<p>“That’s a lovely name. I imagine it’s for your father. Mine is Jean. My mother said it sounded pretty with Hermione but I rather wish it had some more meaning behind it. Still, with my first name I suppose it’s good it’s not too long or complex. Growing up – now keep up Harry or we’ll be late to class – I had just an awful time correcting people on how to say my name…” She couldn’t say for sure whether or not he was really interested in her name but when she helped him to pack up his materials his smile was directed squarely at her.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ron has more self-preservation than most give him credit for.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“What’s this?” Ron blinked rather owlishly at the piece of paper that had been thrust under his nose.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What’s this?” Ron blinked rather owlishly at the piece of paper that had been thrust under his nose. Waving the long rectangle, Hermione didn’t even bother to look up.</p><p>“It’s a bookmark, Ron.” Harry explained distractedly as he tried and failed to rework the word leviosa into alohomora for his Charms essay. With a scowl, he blotted the word out entirely and began again.</p><p>“Oh, is that meant to be like the strip of silk? Like in the old and fancy books?” Ron plucked the bookmark from her fingers and examined it.</p><p>Rearing back as if struck, Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Do you mean to say you’ve never used a bookmark before?” When she had seen students crease the pages in their books the bibliophile in her had been horrified. When Ron had squashed his book to his chest to get away from her the previous day, she had very nearly shouted at him for his callous disregard. Imagine, to treat books like toys!</p><p>“I mean, usually you just remember where you left off. That or you just bend the corner…” Seeing the expression on her face he wisely continued, “Or you use a bookmark of course. That’s what you do.” Chuckling awkwardly, he shoved the bookmark into his textbook and retreated to the stacks. Hermione thought she heard a strangled “Barmy!” float to her but ignored it. After all, winners didn’t need to pounce on every mutter. He would be using the bookmark and she could rest easy knowing just a smidge of respect had been earned.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The bookmark crusade has begun!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Hey Hermione, still on the bookmarks?” Harry chuckled, seeming amused by her craft supplies that rolled towards the edge of the table.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oh Harry, over here!” Waving the boy over, she assessed him quickly. In his quidditch uniform he seemed even more skinny and small than usual but his face-splitting grin soothed the need to find the closest food and shove it towards him.</p><p>“Hey Hermione, still on the bookmarks?” Harry chuckled, seeming amused by her craft supplies that rolled towards the edge of the table.</p><p>“Oh, yes. Did you know only the Muggle-born students even know what a bookmark is?” Tying the bush of her hair back from her face quickly, she continued on. “And even then, not all of them use them. When I asked Dean Thomas if he used bookmarks, he looked at me like I’d gone round the bend.” Picking up he scissors she carefully cut the parchment into strips.</p><p>Leaning his broom against the table, Harry settled next to her and began craning his head looking around the common room.</p><p>“Ron’s with Seamus playing exploding snap, if that’s who you were looking for.” Gesturing off towards the fireplace with her scissors she tried not to be hurt at his quick turn-around in interest.</p><p>“Do you need help then?” Feeling the smile stretch its way across her face, she was grateful she hadn’t snapped at him. Having friends had gone a long way towards making her want to curb the side of her that was quick to judge and lash out. While it was hard and she didn’t always succeed, the times when Harry or Ron would reward her patience made her resolve double.</p><p>“Yes, that would be perfect! I’ve got some markers and pens from home that I thought we could decorate them with. I realized it would be much more attractive to have colorful bookmarks.” When she had been shopping in Diagon Alley she had been impressed by the sheer amount of different inks and quills the wizarding world used. However, her parents had insisted that she use up what she had before going about buying new things. She had agreed but had taken a careful list of Scribbulus Writing Implement’s inventory that she wanted the second she could make a case for it.</p><p>“Oh, well, I’m rubbish at drawing.” He seemed put out by this and rolled the markers around absentmindedly.</p><p>Whereas before he had been blissful, his entire demeanor seemed wilted. Choosing her words carefully Hermione said, “I would love to have an authentic Harry Potter bookmark.” When her words didn’t rouse him, she tried again. “I would like anything that my friend drew for me.” This at last seemed to get through to him.</p><p>“Even if it’s nothing special?” Again, the markers were rolled underhand.</p><p>“Harry, if it’s from you it’s special to me.” Placing her hand on his arm, she gave a small squeeze. The blush that dusted his cheeks had her releasing her hold quickly. Fighting down her own blush, she blustered on. “And anyway, for other people we could just write little phrases or do lines and things to make it colorful.”</p><p>“Yah, I guess we could.” He seemed better now, the smile was back as he uncapped the closest marker to hand and got to work. A few minutes later she was the proud owner of a bookmark covered in quidditch playing stick figures.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For some reason the idea of Hermione aggressively polling people about their knowledge and use of bookmarks brings me a lot of joy.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“I’m sorry, I must have misheard you.” Surely, she must have.</p><p>Harry looked rather startled at her interruption to his tale but gamely repeated himself. “And the letter even said The Cupboard Under The Stairs. Uncle Vernon went mental! They tried giving me an actual room to throw off whoever sent the post but the next letter just had that instead…” Harry continued his tale but Hermione had the uncomfortable urge to ask him to repeat it again. He hadn’t had a room?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m sorry, I must have misheard you.” Surely, she must have.</p><p>Harry looked rather startled at her interruption to his tale but gamely repeated himself. “And the letter even said The Cupboard Under The Stairs. Uncle Vernon went mental! They tried giving me an actual room to throw off whoever sent the post but the next letter just had that instead…” Harry continued his tale but Hermione had the uncomfortable urge to ask him to repeat it again. <em>He hadn’t had a room</em>?</p><p>Nodding rather dumbly, she followed along to class but her mind kept buzzing back to his easy acceptance of living in a cupboard.</p><p>That night, she wrote to her parents.</p><p>
  <em>Dear Mum and Dad,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Thank you for the care package. I especially liked the new picture from your practice. It was so nice to see everyone again even though I can’t be there!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I do have a question. Is it strange for someone to live in a cupboard under the stairs? My new friend says his aunt and uncle had him live there for years. I don’t like it but no one else seems to think it’s peculiar. I don’t know if I’m being silly or not.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Love,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hermione</em>
</p><p>Feeling much better about the whole issue, after all her parents were always good about explaining things and would surely be the best people to know whether or not it was strange, she trotted off to the owlery to mail the letter straight away.</p><p>Thus began a long series of letters back and forth between her parents and her regarding one Harry Potter. Their return letter acknowledged that it was strange for a boy to live in a cupboard under the stairs. Feeling vindicated, she was sure to share the other odd things Harry did that no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t quite make sense of. By the time she got to how he reacted to the idea of food being taken away she got a quick response that told her straight away to inform a trusted adult at the school. Hemming and hawing over whether to tell Harry about what she was doing or not, she reasoned he was much too busy with quidditch to spare the time to speak with her. Even though she felt bad about not telling him, and her white lie to herself, she still knocked on Professor McGonagall’s door promptly when her office hours began.</p><p>“Come in.” The stern voice of her professor rang out. Pushing open the door, she made her way to the front of her desk. As she crossed the space she quickly took stock, the room was cozy with a fire crackling away and the quidditch fields visible out of the window. This same window was no doubt where she had spied Harry catching Neville’s Remembrall. The room was just as neat and orderly as the woman who inhabited it and reminded Hermione a great deal of the Gryffindor common room with its casual elegance.</p><p>“Ah, Miss Granger. What can I do for you?” The older woman had softened towards her once she had been the first in the class to change her matchstick to a needle. Hermione was grateful for the warmth in her eyes as she found summoning up the courage to talk was harder than she expected.</p><p>“Hello, Professor. I came to speak to you about a… ah, personal matter. That is to say my parents encouraged me to talk to an adult about it but I knew that something wasn’t right and I’m hoping you can help.” She blurted out, fingers twisting in her lap as she struggled to stay in her seat.</p><p>A raised eyebrow was McGonagall’s only response. Waiting a second to make sure she wasn’t going to interrupt her Head of House, she plowed on. “It’s Harry, you see. His aunt and uncle are just awful to him. He was living in a cupboard!” Shoving her hands under her thighs to keep them from gesturing wildly, the young witch paused to observe her mentor.</p><p>There was a complex flash of emotions that seemed to play out on McGonagall’s face. If Hermione had to settle on one, she would say sad, but it seemed to get pressed under a neutral expression as quickly as it showed. “They send him to his cupboard all the time and he had to sneak out to get food. I mean, they gave him a room but that was only because they thought someone was watching them. And it’s not because they don’t have the money. I was careful to ask and not assume!” This seemed very critical to Hermione after her parents had explained to her that sometimes there simply wasn’t enough rooms for each child to have their own and was she sure it was truly a cupboard? For the Dursleys, it wasn’t that they didn’t have the room or money, and it most certainly was a small cupboard complete with spiders everywhere. His aunt and uncle just hadn’t seemed to want to give him a room, at least not from what Harry had said.</p><p>The Professor appeared to gather herself before speaking by taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Miss Granger. You can be certain that I will be speaking with Headmaster Dumbledore about this issue.” She announced crisply, biting off each word.</p><p>“Oh, well, when will I know that’s been done?” Hermione took her hands out from where she had trapped them under her thighs and instead straightened her skirt, not quite able to meet her Head of House’s eyes. It felt like sacrilege to question an adult on what they had said they would do.</p><p>It seemed McGonagall agreed that it was out of line as her eyes took on a flinty look. Hermione had no doubt that if she was in her animagus form her tail would be lashing. “Miss Granger, do you trust me?”</p><p>“Of course, Professor!” She blurted out, frantic to make her understand the source of her unease. “I just want to make sure he’s safe. Harry should have a family that treats him the way he deserves to be treated. I’ve never had to do anything like this in my life and I just want to make sure I get it right. I would never forgive myself if I made it worse.” Against her wishes, fat tears started to well up. She was a crier despite her best efforts and hated it when she succumbed to tears. Lip wobbling pathetically, she tried desperately to keep her face in some semblance of order.</p><p>The older woman let out a little sigh, changing a piece of parchment to a handkerchief before handing it to the distraught young girl. “Miss Granger, please understand that I will do everything in my power to see your concerns to the proper people. I know it can seem overwhelming, but you did exactly what you should do. It’s always hard to bring these topics up and you did the right thing for your friend. However, I cannot tell you what happens after this to respect everyone’s privacy. You have to understand and trust that it is being handled as needed.” McGonagall soothed. “Now, have a biscuit, Miss Granger.” Cracking a watery smile, Hermione did just that.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>No Dumbledore bashing, but I never understood why something couldn't have been done for Harry even if he needed the bloodline protection. I mean, Hagrid gave Dudley a pig's tail. Surely Dumbledore could have done something more than sending a letter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Helping her to her feet now that all the bookmarks had been collected Fred cheerfully rejoined, “Just the anti-crease-book-protector we were looking for! We’ll take this one off your hands and would love any future bookmarks that feature such a worthy and insightful subject.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After her meeting with McGonagall, Hermione was happy her next stop was to the library instead of the common room. While she was glad she had told her Head of House about Harry’s home situation, it still made her feel a bit bad about not telling Harry first. It was his life, after all. <em>Well, he didn’t think anything was wrong with it when I asked. He may not know that it’s not normal to have a home like that. </em>Feeling slightly better, she withdrew her stack of bookmarks from her satchel. When Harry had been helping her to make them, they had drawn a bit of a crowd and a number of Gryffindors had come over to make one or two. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who had scarcely said anything to her in the months they had lived together, had settled in and colored for over an hour. Hermione rather suspected they just wanted a chance to doodle instead of the noble goal of protecting knowledge but they had both said they would be using the eye-searingly colorful bookmarks they had made from then on so Hermione had bitten off what she wanted to say and thanked them for their help instead.</p><p>“Watch it, Mudblood!” Malfoy snarled, Crabbe pushing her to the floor. Her sheaf of bookmarks looked like overly large confetti as they spun and drifted to the ground. Pushing herself up to her hands and knees she could hardly process what had happened. One moment she was minding her own business and the next she was on the ground and what was a Mudblood anyway?</p><p>“And what’s this?” The aristocratic drawl had her whipping her head up. Between his thumb and forefinger, a single bookmark was pinched and hanging limply in its multi-colored glory. “Look, the Mudblood has learned how to marshal her mental resources and produced this worthless piece of child’s art.” Her tears were back in full but she forced herself to stand regardless. Her limbs trembled with impotent rage making her look like a baby giraffe just learning to walk.</p><p>“Look here, Fred.” A jolly shout seemed to crack the moment in two. Crabbe and Goyle both angled closer to Malfoy. Malfoy for his part released the bookmark to drift to the floor and sneered at the newcomers.</p><p>“What could it be, George?” His twin rejoined, keeping pace as they closed in on the scene.</p><p>“Why, it’s a bunch of stupid firsties who think they won’t get pummeled if they don’t shove off this very moment.” Fred announced, a glare causing the three younger boys to beat a hasty retreat. Feeling her legs turn to jelly, Hermione sunk back down to the floor and began to dully collect her bookmarks.</p><p>“But George, it’s a Granger-in-distress. Shouldest we help yon ickle Ronniekin’s friend?” He bowed comically and waved an imaginary hat in a flourish.</p><p>“Oh, verily!” Both boys were down on hands and knees, clearing up swaths of paper with each pass of their hands. “Say, what is this –”</p><p>“—All about?” The other twin finished, looking closer at some of the designs. Fred howled with laughter, “Honking and Stroppy Slytherins Snivel and Simper Strangely!” Blinking back into focus, Hermione snatched the bookmark out of his hands. Sure enough, a crudely drawn snake was HSSSS-ing with each of the first letters enlarged and the insulting words coming out of them.</p><p>“They’re meant to be bookmarks to save books from being creased. Someone must have made some anti-Slytherin ones.” Pouting a bit, Hermione reconciled herself to checking each and every bookmark before the next part of her plan.</p><p>“Oh-ho! This is perfect, isn’t it, Fred?” George crowed, reclaiming the bookmark from her hands.</p><p>Helping her to her feet now that all the bookmarks had been collected Fred cheerfully rejoined, “Just the anti-crease-book-protector we were looking for! We’ll take this one off your hands and would love any future bookmarks that feature such a worthy and insightful subject.”</p><p>Looking at her bundle of bookmarks, Hermione felt marginally better about the whole encounter. “Well, I can certainly let you have one for free but for more I think you’ll have to earn your keep.” Placing her hands on her hips and spreading her feet she felt centered and in control. It was something she committed to memory. If Draco’s goons pushed her down again, she would know how to get up and stand up straight. “Every Tuesday at seven o’clock sharp we meet to make more. If you want more bookmarks you’ll have to make some extra. And! And, they have to be appropriate for anyone from any house to have.” Giving them a shake of her finger, she decided not to tell them that her bookmark time had only happened once before. It never hurt to bluff a little.</p><p>The twins shared a look before falling down on their knees and flapping their arms up and down in mock-worship. “Oh mighty Hermione, please let us make bookmarks for you with non-true statements about the virtues of Slytherins!” Keeping the snort of laughter in, she swept out her invisible ball gown skirts and curtsied.</p><p>“Oh, noble knights. For your bravery I thank you. As a reward for chasing off the brutish trolls, I Hermione Granger owe you one favor.” While she debated the wisdom in doing so, Ron’s brothers were harmless, at least according to Ron they were, and it certainly made her feel better to know that she could give something back for their help.</p><p>Like the weasel in nursery rhyme, both brothers popped up and looked positively gleeful. “A favor from such a distinguished –” Fred crowed.</p><p>“—student like yourself?” George finished, slinging an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Well, well, well. Fred, I think we have the answer to our tricky situation!” Putting her hands on her hips, she leaned forward and stared them down.</p><p>“Now, don’t get carried away! Nothing that plays a prank on a student or professor.” <em>Perhaps it’s best to put some stipulations on it though, just in case.</em></p><p>Clutching a hand to his chest, Fred’s attempt at looking pathetic fell flat given the Cheshire grin that stretched across his face. “Why, perish the thought! That wasn’t what we had in mind at all. Was it, George?”</p><p>“Not at all. Not at all,” tsked George. “I don’t think I can stand such distrust much longer, Fred. Let’s leave Lady Hermione to continue on her merry way.” Giving the twins a short wave, she settled on a nearby bench and carefully checked over each and every bookmark and was glad she did. There were a handful of anti-Slytherin, a few that made fun of Ravenclaws bookish nature, and one that even compared a Hufflepuff to a gnome. Shoving the inappropriate bookmarks back into her bag, she was glad she still had a large stack of ones she could use. Straightening her uniform primly, she marched into the library and towards Madam Pince.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>There's no way Hermione hadn't heard the term Mudblood until third year. Also, I'm curious what you think Fred and George will use the favor for. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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